


I Swear It

by TheseWords_MyDiary



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Mentions of Rape, Missing Scene, Missing Scenes, Oneshot collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseWords_MyDiary/pseuds/TheseWords_MyDiary
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots - missing scenes - with Jon and Sansa. They will range from 6x04 to the present season, and may be out of order from time to time as I will write one when a prompt is submitted for it or when an idea strikes. Hope you don't mind that! xxoo





	1. 6x04 "Missing Scene" #1 - Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, their background stories or the world in which they live. That belongs to George RR Martin, HBO and all other affiliates. I do not claim any of those as my own creations. This is simply a work of imagination. Furthermore, all characters in the story are consenting adults (at least 18 years of age).
> 
> Below is a "missing scene" between Jon x Sansa set in episode 6x04.
> 
> Mentions of Ramsay being "a monster." No graphic details. Just that.

He shows her to the Lord Commander’s chambers quickly following their reunion in the courtyard, his brow furrowing in concern as he feels her lean heavily against him, her limbs trembling as they move slowly up the stairs and toward the door. He has no idea what has caused her to flee for The Wall, but he’s positive that it is something that will not be pleasing to learn of. 

Her lady knight - Brienne of Tarth, as she’d been introduced to him - follows them quickly to the chambers, concern painting her face as well, and Jon  _ knows _ that something is not right.

“Lady Sansa,” the knight says, stepping forward, quite obviously ready to shove Jon from the room if she is commanded to do so. “We must get you warm… and dry. Your,” she pauses, her eyes moving to Jon and back again. “Your injuries need to be properly assessed now that we’ve arrived safely.”

Jon’s eyes widen, his gaze quickly roams over Sansa’s face, taking in her immediate blush and the way that she makes a point of looking everywhere  _ but _ into his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Brienne,” Sansa replies, a tone of finality taking over. She pushes herself out of Jon’s protective hold and she smiles reassuringly at them both. It’s as though a mask has been slipped over her face. “I only need to spend some time in front of a fire.” She glances down at herself, a look of disgust crossing her features before she covers it up once again. “And perhaps a bath. Go have a rest, Brienne. I’ll be safe here.”

Brienne looks nearly ready to argue, a war waging behind her eyes and that makes Jon tempted to ask her to stay. Duty wins her inner battle, however, and the knight nods before disappearing through the door once again.

Jon brings his hesitant gaze back to Sansa as soon as they’re alone again, and swallows hard against the lump of dread forming in his throat. “Injuries,” he inquires quietly.

Sitting herself slowly into a chair in front of the fire in his chambers, Sansa tries in vain to reassure him with a grin. “She’s unnecessarily worried, Jon. My ankle is a bit swollen from my… escape.” She lifts the bottom of her skirts slightly, showing him her ankle which is more than a  _ bit _ swollen, and quite bruised as well. Jon’s brow furrows, and he crouches down beside her to look at it. “Theon and I jumped from the battlements at Winterfell, you see, and I twisted it when I landed. I’ll be fine.”

“This is  _ not _ fine, Sansa,” he says, gently guiding her ankle to bend and move in his hands. He shoots her an apologetic glance when he hears her sharp intake of breath, but continues to try to work out the stiffness he feels in the joint there. “There is no maester here any longer. Sam Tarly -- my br- _ friend _ \-- has traveled to the Citadel for study to become the next. It looks very badly sprained.” He pauses, his eyes traveling up to her face again. “You  _ jumped _ from the battlements? You are lucky to have survived a fall that high.”

Sansa nods, looking away from him and into the fire. “I  _ had _ to, Jon,” she bites back, her tone turning cold and forceful. “Ramsay… he’s a monster.”

“Ramsay...Snow?” Jon’s confusion is evident.

“ _ Bolton _ ,” she corrects with disgust. “His father legitimized him.” Sansa pauses, a thoughtful expression taking over her face. As though she is trying to read Jon, make sure of his loyalty. He must pass the test after a moment because she eventually decides to elaborate. “Littlefinger, after he helped me escape Kings Landing and then took me to my Aunt in the Vale… he brought me to them - the Boltons. He made some sort of deal with them - sold me to them, forced me into a marriage with Ramsay… for an heir and an alliance between our families. For power.” She swallows hard, shakes her head as if to rid herself of awful memories. “Ramsay is a  _ monster _ , Jon.”

Jon licks his lips, his hands on her ankle stilling for a moment. He consciously tries to keep his eyes upon her face, not wanting to upset her further by allowing them to roam. Though he wants  _ so _ terribly to search her for more injuries. He now knows that there are more - has a feeling there are  _ many _ more. 

He has no idea what to say to make this better. No idea what he is supposed to do next in a scenario such as this. Jon’s mind quickly goes back to Sam, and to Gilly. To the way she’d suffered at her own father’s hands; to the way Sam adamantly took care of her, knew exactly what to do to help her. Oh, how he wishes Sam were here now. He would know exactly what Jon should do to make this better for Sansa. Because as far as Jon can see, all that seems right is to march south and kill both Ramsay  _ Bolton _ and Baelish with his own two hands.

“So there is more than the ankle, then. He  _ hurt _ you,” is the first thing to come flying from his mouth and his face conveys how stupid he feels in asking.

Sansa’s lips tick up at the corners, a sad smile of sorts showing itself. “ _ Yes _ ,” she whispers, eyes shimmering with tears. “I cannot go back to him, Jon.” 

“You won’t,” he says fiercely, his hand reaching for her own, taking hold of it. He  _ means _ it. He has spent so many years praying to gods he has no faith in for the safety of the family he’d left behind. He lived and  _ died _ believing them all either dead or close to death. Raised from the dead not a full two days before Sansa comes to him in this way, Jon cannot help the thought that perhaps  _ she _ is the reason for it.  _ She _ is why the god of light that the Red Woman is always going on about saw fit to return him to the state of living.  _ She _ is quite literally the answer to his prayers. He resolves himself then, to learn from Sam in this instance. He will see to it that Sansa is safe and taken care of. He will adamantly stand beside her no matter the cost. “I’ll protect you, Sansa. I swear it.”


	2. 6x04 "Missing Scene" - #2 - Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa wakes up a few times on her first night at Castle Black with night terrors. Jon is there to try to comfort her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, their background stories or the world in which they live. That belongs to George RR Martin, HBO and all other affiliates. I do not claim any of those as my own creations. This is simply a work of imagination. Furthermore, all characters in the story are consenting adults (at least 18 years of age).
> 
> Below is another "missing scene" between Jon x Sansa set in episode 6x04.
> 
> Mentions of Ramsay and some of Sansa's sufferings at his hands. Eludes to rape. So. Trigger warning. It's only vaguely mentioned a few times, but it's mentioned nonetheless.
> 
> This one is from Sansa's POV.

She has night terrors. 

Awful night terrors that are not really night terrors at all.  _ Memories _ . Ramsay comes to her in the dark, hovers over her. His ice blue eyes gleam with pure elation as he uses his own body to mercilessly invade hers and the tip of his favorite daggers to cut away at her skin. He leaves deep lacerations that will become scars and a fear that will surely never stop haunting her.

Sansa never wakes from these terrors screaming. Through months of living with this ruthless torturer, she has learned not to outwardly show pains or fear. She has learned to cover them up. She has learned how to keep quiet because the opposite of quiet only means that  _ he _ is winning. It has taken constant practice, but she has perfected the mask that she knows she must wear to survive in this cruel world. Even in her sleep, Sansa Stark knows that she must always continue to wear it.

And so she wakes from her night terrors --  _ memories _ \-- gasping, holding her furs tightly to her body, guarding it from the onslaught of attacks that have chased her into her sleep. Her screams, thank the gods, do not follow her from dream world to reality.

On this night, however -- her first at Castle Black -- they do. Sansa wakes with a start to a darkened room, hearth burning low, and her mind immediately betrays her. Is she back in her prison chamber at Winterfell? Has she imagined her escape, her travels, her reunion with Jon? Is  _ he _ here with her? Her body still aches terribly with the injuries inflicted upon it over the course of the moons spent within Ramsay’s grasp, and she finds herself  _ screaming  _ as terror grips her with a strength that she will never get used to.

Her vision blurs, her lungs ache, her entire body  _ hurts _ , and though she hates herself for giving into it - for allowing her mask to drop - Sansa cannot find the strength to quiet herself.

She is not sure how long this continues - her eyes squeezed tightly shut, body curled in on itself, but she is soon aware of quick movement… another person in the room coming to her, stopping to stand above her. They remain speechless for a moment before they begin calling out to her, the voice deep but gentle… and she knows that it can’t be  _ him _ . Ramsay would never be gentle in a scenario such as this. He’d take the opportunity given to him - her momentary weakness - and he would pounce upon her like a mountain lion would upon his prey.  _ Hurt her _ because he could. Because  _ this _ made him happy.

No. This could not be Ramsay, she thinks, as her mind slowly comes back to itself. She deliberately forces herself into silence and opens her eyes - Tully blue gaze meeting Stark grey. 

“ _Jon_ ,” she says, relief washing over her. Her chest rises and falls with pained gasps for _more_ _air_ , her hands grip the furs around her for purchase.

“Are you alright?” He whispers it after a moment of hesitation. His eyes are wide as they silently rake over her, concern painting his features. “Are you hurt?”

She’s silent for a few minutes, gathering her wits about her. Her throat and her chest  _ burn  _ the way they always did at the end of Ramsay’s visits to her room in Winterfell, and she wonders how long she’d been screaming. Jon has been with her mere hours. He must think her mad.

“Yes. I’m quite alright,” she nods, though she knows it’s silly. Sansa is obviously  _ not _ alright. She forces herself to sit up - wincing in pain as she does so, as old injuries and a stiffness brought on by her nightmare slow her down. She watches Jon’s hands reach out, ready to help her, but they finally grab at the air and he forces them to fold into themselves. He’s afraid to touch her. “Night terror.” The answer is pathetic, she knows, but she doesn’t know what else to say. She realizes only now that there are tears on her cheeks. “I’d… thought I was somewhere else.”

“You had two more terrors before this one,” he mumbles, deep in thought. Jon’s eyes find hers in the dim light and he hesitates for a moment before sitting himself on the edge of the bed by her feet. “Do you get these often?” 

Sansa shakes her head, reaches up to wipe her tears away. “Not to that extent. I’ve never cried out because of them.” She looks down into her lap, forces herself to breathe in and then out deeply. “They’ve only recently started. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be,” Jon says. He tips his head, trying to catch her gaze with his own. When she finally looks back up at him, he fixes her with a look that she knows is sincere. “You have nothing to apologize for, Sansa.” He pauses, licking his lips. It’s obvious that he has much to say, but is worried about possibly offending her. “Shall I wake Brienne? Do you need to speak with her?”

She shakes her head quickly. She knows that if Brienne is to come in to help her, she is going to force herself to stand guard for Sansa all night. The poor woman barely slept over the course of their journey to Castle Black. “Let her rest. She needs it.” Seeing him nod in silent agreement, she makes an effort to smile in response. Sansa grabs at the furs again, wraps them around herself and begins standing from the bed on unstable legs. 

Jon stands as well, offering a hand to steady her when he sees her nearly tip over. “Where are you going?” He looks nervous, and she supposes he has every reason to be. Here she is showing up out of the blue and keeping him awake all night with screams of terror. She forces herself to not think on it further and begins walking slowly to one of the vacant chairs by the hearth. 

“I just want to sit by the fire for a bit. I can’t very well go back to sleep at the moment,” Sansa replies, wrapping the furs tightly around herself as she settles slowly into her chair. She winces as she sits down and she doesn’t miss the distressed look on Jon’s face in response.

She notices the pallet he’s made for himself on the floor in front of her - a makeshift bed - and his sword at the ready beside it. She feels guilty for having him sleep there, but he’d insisted upon it earlier. Ghost moves from his spot at the head of the pallet and repositions himself next to her. She smiles, grateful for the additional comfort. 

“You really should have someone look you over, Sansa,” Jon says, settling himself in the chair beside her. He runs his hands through his hair, exhaustion marking his features and then fixes her with a look that Sansa can only describe as gentle though she feels a decent amount of dread creeping up her spine at the sight of it. She knows what he’s going to say -  _ again _ . The same thing he and Brienne and Podrick have all been saying to her since they’d arrived as Castle Black earlier. “I know that you’re hesitant, but your injuries could be quite serious. I could tr-”

“ _ No _ ,” she cuts him off, nearly shouting to do so. Her breathing has become erratic again, and she hates herself for it. She isn’t even sure when it began again. What has happened to her beautifully crafted mask? Why is she unable to keep it on in the presence of Jon? The mere thought of someone looking at her,  _ touching her,  _ makes her want to vomit. She drops her forehead to her knees which are curled up in the seat with her and forces her feeling of panic to retreat inside herself again. “I’m...I’m not comfortable with it. I’ll be alright with a few days’ rest. You’ll see.”

Jon eyes her wearily, but he’s unwilling to argue. He doesn’t know exactly what happened to her in Winterfell - no one does - but she’s told him enough that she’s confident he understands her need for him to stop pestering her about this at the moment. He nods after a little while, and she knows that he regrets it immediately. She watches his gaze flicker from hers, to the ground, to the fire, and back to catch hers once again. “I’m only concerned about you, Sansa. I want to  _ help _ you, but…,” he pauses, looks down at his hands. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in trying to do so. So please just, tell me how you need me to help. Whenever that may be. I’ll do it.”

She smiles at him, settling back into her chair and finds herself breathing easily for the first time all night. Knowing that Jon is  _ here _ for her, that he isn’t going to push or manipulate her into allowing him to do what  _ he _ wants to do, that he would gladly take the frustration of not being able to do what he wants to do in order to make Sansa feel and  _ know  _ that she is safe… this means more to her than anything else in the world. She gets to have a choice. She gets to control her own life and decisions for once.

“I’m afraid of the night,” she finally whispers, tears springing to her eyes. “I endured many horrors in the nights over the last several moons.” She hadn’t expected to give him that information, though she knows it wouldn’t be hard for him to piece together. She’s also not ready to disclose anything else just yet, and she’s glad to see that Jon doesn’t look willing to press her for an elaboration. 

She watches him closely for a moment, takes in the way his nostrils flare and how he takes special care at guarding his expression so as not to terrify Sansa himself. After another moment, she lets one of her hands escape the furs wrapped around her, pushing it into the divide between them and finds his surprisingly warm hand waiting on the other side. He spreads his fingers just enough for her to grip each of them with her own and gently squeezes them in protective reassurance.

“Those horrors won’t find you again,” Jon whispers back, a fierceness in even his quiet tone. It’s a promise. She knows it. “I’ll make sure of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any grammar mistakes you may see in here. I edited a few times, but I still have no beta.
> 
> If there is another "missing scene" you'd like to see be carried out in this collection, let me know! I'll add it to my prompt list! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this one as well. I love feedback! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any grammar mistakes you may see in here. I edited a few times, but currently have no beta. 
> 
> If there is another "missing scene" you'd like to see be carried out in this collection, let me know! I'll add it to my prompt list! 
> 
> My fic tumblr is thesewords-mydiary.  
> My Jonsa side tumblrs is fyearjonandsansa.


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